


Pleasant Thoughts

by cecibarnes



Category: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal - Fandom, Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Character Study, Fluff, Introspection, Love, M/M, Murder Husbands, One Shot, Post Finale, Post Season 3, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Short One Shot, Sweetness In The Kitchen, kinda pre-slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 22:20:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14861355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cecibarnes/pseuds/cecibarnes
Summary: Kitchens do make for an ideal place to talk about mundane things like dogs and murder.





	Pleasant Thoughts

**Author's Note:**

> English is my third language, and this short one-shot is unbeta'd, so if there are any mistakes, please do kindly let me know in the comments.  
> Hope you like it!

There are days when he forgets the past few months spent on the run. 

Here, in this small house on the outskirts of a Sicilian town, with its vast lush grounds flourishing under a temperate sun, he only feels phantom pain and heartache. The flurry of movement keeps his mind away from delving into trains of thought long abandoned, along with his chrysalis, in the raging waters of the Atlantic. 

Will found himself, and Hannibal, then, bathed in moonlit blood and exalted in the afterglow of a kill. He could no longer deny what Hannibal had known all along. A beast was felled on that glorious night, and two were reborn from its warm entrails. Reborn, and yet, their fate uncertain. But hours adrift turned into days on the mend and finally became months of peace and tranquility.

“Lost in thought again, Will?” Hannibal’s dulcet tones jolt Will back to reality, and he locks eyes with him across the island as he goes back to watching him prepare lunch. His moment of distraction earns him a quirk of soft-looking lips. Lips he longs to feel against his own. A soothing voice he wants to sense vibrating against his ear as he did on that cliff. Hannibal looks pleased by Will being so at ease around him as it surely means he has earned his trust. And he has indeed earned more than simple trust. 

Will smiles freely and feels the stretch of his scarred cheek. “Somewhat... pleasant thoughts.” 

Hannibal raises an eyebrow and leans on the countertop with both hands, sleeves rolled up exposing firm and scarred forearms with a knife still held in one hand, and gives Will his undivided attention. “And what would make these thoughts more agreeable?”

“A dog.”

A pause. 

“Well, I must say that it took you longer than I had anticipated to broach the subject, or in this case, steer me into opening a vein of conversation that would allow for it to be broached,” Hannibal’s fondness for him seeps through his voice and shines through his eyes, and it softens the lines of his face. “Clever boy.” 

“You could never really predict me,” Will chimes back playfully. 

His previous retort may have come out unbidden, but he does miss his pack, and it seems like a natural progression for them to welcome another stray into their home. Will considers them strays; Hannibal had been lost in a limbo since Mischa’s death, and as for him, he had been lost in the minds of others, never knowing his real self, never knowing where he belonged. Now, he looks in the mirror and sees himself, he wonders around the house and thinks that a place has been made for him. For them. 

“It does make life with you so very interesting, dear Will,” Hannibal replies as he resumes tinkering around the kitchen. “And I treasure every new facet of you that I discover. Your love for dogs may not be a new discovery, but the devotion you inspire from those creatures never ceases to fascinate me. I might even consider acquiring a companion for myself.” His smile is back, and as he tilts his head to stare at Will, it broadens into a mischievous grin at the sight of his incredulous expression. 

“You want to get a dog?” Will asks jokingly. 

“I’m more of a cat person.”

“Ah,” Will regards Hannibal skeptically. “That’s just your way of saying that you’re not interested in getting slobbered and shed over, isn’t it?” 

“I will still be slobbered and shed over, as you so succinctly put it, seeing that we are getting a dog and we do share a living space,” Hannibal does nothing to hide his amusement, and Will thinks that it bodes well for any future addition, or, as it will probably be, additions, to their lives. 

And it was as if Hannibal had read his mind. “I would only ask that you keep them away from the kitchen.” 

“Careful, Hannibal,” Will warns, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. “You’re treading into dangerous waters with this kind of accommodating spirit.”

“After all the things that we have experienced together, Will, I would have thought it obvious that I’m willing to do anything for you.”

Anything. 

For you. 

Will can only stare, transfixed, as Hannibal delivers these words with a relative air of nonchalance. However, his voice may have been light and teasing, but he’s turning away and holding himself rigidly, facing away from Will and, for once, he’s the one avoiding eye contact. 

“It appears that… we share the same sentiments.”

Oh. This is different.

Their eyes meet again, and Will marvels at the way Hannibal’s uncoiffed fringe makes him seem more vulnerable and less put together. Hannibal’s armor against the world stopped extending towards Will years ago, but the novelty of it never wears off. 

“I am pleased.” Hannibal’s smile was a soft, warm thing that made Will want to trace its curve with his fingers and retrace their path with his lips. 

Will decides to break the moment before it becomes impossible for him to hold back these urges. 

“How’s lunch coming along?”

“It’s almost ready. If you could please go ahead and set the table, Will.” Hannibal’s fluid movements around the kitchen remind Will of his graceful lunges and powerful steps as they put an end to Dolarhyde, and a thirst for blood he hasn’t felt for months sears through his veins and makes his mouth water for another taste of it. 

“And who are we having for lunch today?” Will’s question, coupled with his indifferent tone, startles Hannibal, who stops halfway through extracting their meal from the oven to simply gaze at Will in wonder. 

“It was a pig I encountered on my trip to town two days ago,” Hannibal’s eyes seem to be studying Will and appraising his reaction. 

“Your trips sure do sound like fun, Hannibal,” Will knows what he wants, he’s been thinking too much about the past and not enough about what the future holds for him, and he’s ready to finally sate his desires. “But I would still prefer that you don’t kill anyone.” 

“Ah.”

“Alone.”

“Oh.”

 _Gotcha_ , Will thinks. 

“As long as the only people we bring home are… indisposed, I see no problem with us venturing out together.” 

“Indeed,” Hannibal breathes out. “I find the idea exhilarating. Get the old scent back.”

“And taste.”

Hannibal licks his lips. “Famished?” 

“Starving.” 

“Shall we eat, then?”

Will smiles brightly. “Lead the way.”

Will has had a taste of blood and flesh, and he’s also had a taste of freedom, and the combination of these elements is a heady mixture which invades the senses and clouds the mind. The difference now is that Will’s mind is as clear as the azure sky that is painted on the horizon, and his palate is infinitely more refined. He hungers for human flesh cooked to perfection by his doctor’s nimble hands, and human flesh hot with pulsating blood that would well up in the wake of nips and bites delivered by tingling teeth. 

He hungers.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing something this long since I mainly stick to poetry, but I tried my best (I know it's a mess).  
> But anyway, kudos and comments make my day!


End file.
